


Fell

by miniaturemice



Category: The Outsiders - S. E. Hinton
Genre: Angst, F/M, Insecurity, Love Triangle, Multi, Romance, multiple POVs, relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-01
Updated: 2012-06-23
Packaged: 2017-11-08 09:02:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/441511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miniaturemice/pseuds/miniaturemice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's another side to the story that never did get told. This is how it goes. This is how it comes full circle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sodapop: Falling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's another side to the story that never did get told. This is how it goes. This is how it comes full circle. (Soda,Steve and Sandy.)

_You can't change things, they fall into place by themselves.. In their own way. You don't expect it, you accept it. But like so many things, I didn't plan for this to happen. It just happened and just is-like falling in love before you know it or arguing with someone when a particular word cuts deeper than expected and you find yourself at a loss before realizing a string of words have already escaped from your lips, more hurtful and cutting than you ever intended._

_You didn't mean to._

_You never did._

_But then like a bad movie, he or she will ask, as they always do._

" _So why say it?"_

_And then there is the other group. The words you never say until it's too late. Those, you know, hurt the most._

_The words you mean the most and don't allow to exist aloud._

__

* * *

The moon hung low enough in the sky that I was sure it would fade soon as the stars all already had and allow the Sun to come and take its place. The trees were still and there was no breeze but weirdly enough, the water still rippled. I opened my eyes blearily, wishing so badly to be back home in my own bed with Ponyboy.

"What time is it?" Steve asked.

"Late enough," I told him shortly, stifling a yawn.I hadn't wanted to come out and see her. I knew what would happen if I did. The knowledge that I even liked her that way made me feel guilty but I followed Steve anyway when he asked me to. I don't know why he asked me to.

His face fell and I felt even worse because I knew what he was really asking, "Do you think she'll come?"

I opened my mouth to say sorry or something but he cut me off,

"Fuck it, Soda. Why are we even here? I knew she wouldn't show just 'cause I fucking asked her to."

I said nothing, letting him grow angrier and angrier. He stood up from the bench.

"Fuck," he screamed, kicking the ground and ended up kicking a rock instead. He cussed even louder, angry with himself. 

"Steve. Buddy." I said but Steve snapped at me, a string of curses that he had used before but never, never on me. Not angrily anyway. It was always friendly, joking and I was surprised by how much this stung me. But I shrugged it off. He was only angry, after all. He didn't mean it. But when I put my hand on his shoulder and he shrugged it off, that's when I realize Steve is not just angry. Steve is... _angry._

If anger made you turn on people like a rabid dog, imagine how anger made Steve turn on himself, snarling and biting. His eyes were glossy at the sides and I watched as Steve dragged his arm over his eyes. He's really angry. His eyes are flashing and he's shaking all over, itching to punch something. Upset, pissed off at the world. He sat back down at the bench and I followed suit, unsure if he might try to take a swing at me.

I didn't know he liked her this much and the guilt feeling in my stomach twisted harder.

I felt sick, wishing that things weren't this way. 

He stared at the ground.

I didn't know what to do.I sighed and Steve looked up. Not entirely up, just a little bit.

"You really like her, huh, Steve?" I said softly.

There was no reply.

"Hey, buddy. Don't worry. She ain't worth your time," I told him.

No reply again and I'm about to give up but he spoke up then.

"Soda?"

"Yeah?" His voice sounds hoarse and I wondered if he's gonna tell me to shut up.

"Fuck. I really liked her."

I didn't say anything again but this time, Steve looked up. Entirely up and straight at me. He looks at me in the eye and I turn away, trying to swallow the lump in my throat.I can't look Steve in the eye. Not now. And not for a long time after this too, I realised.

"It's too bad she likes you." he said and I felt even worse now. It's as though his voice was full of broken glass and that smile looked too bitter to be real. He looked broken. Sad. Exhausted.

Steve likes to pretend he hates the world. But I know better. In all honesty, Steve hates himself. He ain't angry with the world. He's angry with himself. I know Steve hates me a little but he loves me more than he hates because we've been together through so much. He's my best friend. But at that moment, I hate myself even if Steve doesn't.

I'll hate Steve and I'll hate me and I'll hate her too.

Because I sort of like Sandy as well.


	2. Steve: Fighting

 

_Most of the time in life, you get one chance but I was lucky enough to get another. It's too bad that I just screwed it up too._

_Sometimes, I think it wasn't really my fault. It's not as though I ever had a say in anything and I sure as hell didn't have a say in how anything in my life goes. But her? I thought she could fix it up. She didn't though and I'm just left here, pretending to not be that bothered._

_But there was a choice. I could have been good for you. But you didn't pick that choice._

___So I was alone and you were with him. But now you're not with him and we're both alone and you're godknowswhere. Hope you're happy about that. But I know you pretty good and wherever you are, I know you ain't happy about that._

_I'm sorry but what else can I say?What more can I not say to make it hurt less?_

_Or to try another way-what could you have said to make it hurt less? I don't know how you feel or felt or fuck knows but did you ever think about me?_

_Was there ever the chance? Could you ever have given me one?_

__

* * *

 

I thought I had a chance. A chance with the soft-edged, soft-spoken girl who stepped into the DX that day. A chance to make it all right. Not just with her, in love. Maybe with my whole life. She seemed like the sort who could make it happen with her bright blue eyes and long swishy hair. She seemed like the kind who could make mornings not so bad; the kind who had kind smiles for everyone and slim,long fingers to slip your own in.

Her car needed fixing.

"Well, yeah," I told her. "I can fix it."

It was an easy job, there was no one there and she made words flow out of my mouth like they never did. I found myself, lying to buy more time.

" _I think you got something wrong here,"_ I said.

" _Yeah?"_

I bet she knew what I was doing but she played along and I found I liked that pretty damn good too. But even I can't stretch a task that takes up fifteen minutes into two hours. She looked towards the door nervously and I knew what she was thinking.

"Boyfriend?" I asked, a jealous feeling already simmering in my stomach and more strangely, heart. I hadn't ever gotten that burning, aching feel in my heart before. It was only ever seething and hot in my stomach. What on Earth was it doing in my heart? But I knew, I knew from the start what it was.

"Nah," she said, smiling (and I swear it felt like my heart skipped a beat or several). "I'm supposed to cook tonight for my family."

She fiddled with a thin silver band on her index finger and believe me, I felt real shocked. She looked sixteen...seventeen. Surely she ain't  _married_?

She followed me eyes to the ring and laughed.

"No...Steve," she leaned forward to read my tag. "I'm not  _married_. I just wear this to put guys off."

"And I ain't a guy?" I questioned.

She laughed again, a soft tinkle like wind chimes.

"You're not  _just_ a guy, I guess," she said finally, blushing crazily. Her cheeks were apple-red and who even comes up with those phrases really? Apple-red? Really? But there she was, apple-red cheeks, long swishy blonde hair and soft crinkly blue eyes. This was it. She was the one, I thought to myself. 

I grinned at her, trying to keep myself from grinning too much. 

Eventually she had to go home but she promised to come down again when she had the time. I got her number and wrote it down on the inside of my arm. Eventually, that washed off too but I had already memorized her number already. But her promise to come again? I held her to that and she kept it. A few weeks came and went but she came again and whaddya know? I was alone again then too.

One time, Soda was here at the DX with me, just goofing off. I was in the back, looking for something when I heard Soda say, "Well, what's a girl like you doing in a place like this?"

I walked out and there she was, leaning on the doorway, in a sweater and pink skirt. She laughed and I smiled, my heart aching. Soda turned to me.

"Hey Stevie! Its a pretty girl! You ever see one of 'em real life ones before?" he joked.

"Sure, I have. Bet you haven't though," I shot back, grinning. This was perfect, this was my life, I could hardly believe it. My best friend and the girl I had wanted all my life. Together with me, laughing. 

He laughed before turning to her.

"And what's your name?" he asked.

"Sandy."


	3. Sandy: Breaking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's another side to the story that never did get told. This is how it goes. This is how it comes full circle.

_Dear Steve, I’m sorry I’m writing to you. I’m sorry you have to read this. I’m sorry I’m not writing to Soda._

_But Steve, I need you to listen to me. I know you’ll hear me but you won’t listen to me. But I need you to listen._

_I didn’t mean t hurt either of you. Believe me when I said I didn’t._

_All my life I’ve never had anything pretty. I’ve never had a dress without a tear or a skirt without a patch. I’ve never had unscuffed shoes, never had socks that weren’t misshapen. Steve, I’ve never had anything new. I’ve never had anything pretty of my own._

_Living in this part of town, you know it’s the same and true of everybody. I’ve always wanted to be better than this but I’m not. I didn’t want to be just a greaser’s girl or a bad daughter.  But I am._

_Until I met you, I didn’t realise that perhaps it’s the same of everyone else too. Everybody else wants to be better than this. But you wore it on your sleeve and I felt like the only person who could read it on your face._

_I met you and I was terrified of how alike we were.  I didn’t want to be that way. I’m sorry but I didn’t want to be that away. I was frightened by the sheer desperation in your eyes._

_There was Soda, lovely Soda with his long legs and bright eyes. And Soda is different, Steve. Soda is happy. And I thought maybe Soda could make me happy._

_But as I’ve realised he doesn’t. I don’t know what will anymore._

_Steve, I couldn’t have made you happy like you thought I would. I realise that now._

_I don’t know what will make everything hurt less but I hope this does._

  


* * *

 

"Sodapop, that's an unusual name," I commented.

 

The DX was empty except for Steve and me as it always was whenever I came down. Now I wondered though if it was more than just a coincidence. Sodapop had rushed home early that day, remembering he had to do something and me? I had spent all of last week thinking about him.

 

Steve laughed. I liked it when he did. It sounded like a shout. It was disarmingly loud and startling but good-natured all the same. But when he laughed this time, it surprised me how harsh it sounded. How soft and brittle but angry. Steve might be sarcastic but I had never heard him downright mean.

 

"You oughta hear his brother's name," he said. "Ponyboy." He probably didn’t want anyone to know that, god forbid, he liked the kid.

 

I gave him a small smile, recognizing an undercurrent of affection when he said the boy's name.

 

There was a lull in the conversation and it suddenly forced.

 

"Is he in your class?" I asked.

 

"Yeah," he nodded. 'Soda's my best buddy."

 

Steve grinned but it fades quickly and he looked at me in the eye. I look away, uncomfortable under his gaze.

 

"You...are you..." he muttered, stumbling over his words.  He takes a deep breath before asking hesitantly.

 

"Do you like him?"

 

He stared at me.

 

"You like him." he said softly with the most stricken expression I had ever seen before on his face. I felt a pang in my chest, knowing that I had caused that expression.

 

Oh god. I didn't know what to do.

 

I knew Steve liked me and I didn't want this to end badly. He's a good friend but that's all he was. A friend. I wasn't interested in much more than that. I didn't answer him, casting my eyes downwards.

 

His tennis shoes came into view. They looked tattered and weather-beaten with tears at the sides. They looked like my shoes.

 

He's too near and before I can move away, he kisses me. On the lips.

 

He kissed softly, gently pressing his fingers to my cheeks. It's not like all the other boys before this. But it’s not his face I see when I close my eyes. He stepped back but doesn't let go, his fingers still on my cheeks.

 

"Will you meet me at the park tonight?" he asked.

 

"I will," I told him but I knew I wouldn't.

 

_Full circle._

__

__


End file.
